How it all Came Round by L.T. Meade

At breakfast the next morning Charlotte Harman was in almost wild spirits. Her movements were generally rather sedate, as befitted one so tall, so finely proportioned, so dignified. To-day her step seemed set to some hidden rhythmic measure; her eyes laughed; her gracious, kindly mouth was wreathed in perpetual smiles. Her father, on the contrary, looked more bent, more careworn, more aged even than usual. Looking, however, into her eyes for light, his own brightened. As he ate his frugal breakfast of coffee and dry toast he spoke:

"Charlotte, your Uncle Jasper came to me last night with a proposal on your behalf."